Jaxon is a cat, a female, to be exact. Don’t let the name fool you. When she first came into our lives she was so tiny that we could not tell if she was male or female. After the vet confirmed that she was indeed Miss Jaxon, I saw no need to change.
Jaxon was born in Willow Creek, a tiny town in Northern California that gets to be incredibly hot in the summers. It was during one incredibly hot day that my then –fiancé Matt and I stopped at a fruit stand desperate for refreshment. This would be about one year after the car accident. Everything was still so fresh for us; we were still an “us” at that point, even. The tragedy and trauma of the accident was at that point a glue that held us together and made us stronger; little did we know that eventually that cement would start to fracture, crack, and grind against itself until it would simply fall into a pile of dust. I often wonder what it was like for him. I never really blamed him. He was my fiancé, the man I loved, the one I was going to spend the rest of my life with. We went through everything about the accident together. It’s hard for me to put myself in his shoes. Not that it’s mentally difficult, but that I don’t want to do it. And besides, that’s a little heavy for a piece about a necklace and a cat.
But oh, what a cat…we found her at that fruit stand on that hot day and we rescued her from questionable death – she was far healthier than most of her siblings, who were smaller than her and had sticky eyes and noses and hacking coughs. The fruit stand owner walked by with a basket of peaches on her hip, paisley skirt and blond dredlocks swinging, and said in a light voice that we were free to take one or more of the kittens. I remember a distinct lack of concern in her voice and I thought, can’t she see how sick they are? Matt and I looked at each other; we knew we couldn’t save them all, but maybe just one…we already had another cat at home; how would she react? Would we get kicked out of our apartment? Our other cat, Minew, we both loved but knew that really she was his cat, not ours.
Three of the healthier kitten came out from under the stand; the other ones seemed either unable to come out or unwilling to go into the sun. A calico, a tortoiseshell, and a striped grey, the three. He and I were looking at the pretty, fluffy grey when the tortoiseshell came up and stole our hearts with a tiny meow and a licking of the fingers. The mama cat was nowhere to be seen. We knew that it wouldn’t be long before whatever respiratory disease the others had would spread to them all.
We picked up the little brown cat and took off. On the drive home I held her in my lap and put the fan on her, wiped her down with water; still she panted and lolled in the heat. We finally got her closer to the coast where the temperature dropped twenty degrees.
At the vet a few days later the kitten was found to have fleas, worms, ear mites, and lice. And was also found to be a girl.
In the following year this little ball of fluff would steal my heart. Again and again I felt myself slip to the abyss of suicide because of what had happened to me; again and again, Jaxon would be the only thing that could break through my wall of despair. She never failed to melt my heart with her tiny meows and finger licks, which she still does to this day. I never knew if it was because she was weaned too soon or if it’s just a sign of affection. I choose to believe the latter now.
She’s one of the most beautiful cats I’ve known (in more ways than one), and I’ve tried to capture the gentle transitions in her coat in a
Swarovski crystal necklace. I chose crystals in dark mocha, golden brown, light pink and more. They’ve been gathered on a hand-wrought wire frame, and they cascade down like the ripples of her lovely tortoiseshell fur.
To be honest, I’ve battled with myself as to whether I was going to put this piece up for sale. But the real treasure is lying on my living room floor right now, curled up next to a tangle of lit Christmas lights that she seems to really enjoy. I’d rather keep that one here, and share this one with you.
Jaxon is 13 years old and I know that she won’t be around forever, so I cherish each day with her. She has arthritis now and limps around the house; some days we limp around together. Pets are friends that live with us the shortest but pierce us the deepest. When she goes I will miss her, but I am so thankful that we got to be together for this long.
To see more of my jewelry, go to my Etsy shop Laurie Crosby Designs. I also have an Indiegogo campaign running(kind of like Kickstarter) if you are looking for a cause to donate to this season. And thanks.
11:33 AM PT: Update: Item SOLD!